A Place to Stand

by Meg Farrell

  I start running, but before I reach the corner of the house, I’m tackled. The gravel cuts into my knees, and then my face slams into it. There is so much pain that I can’t remember what I was doing. The man who tackled me is sitting on my back, and he grabs a handful of my hair to pull my face up. I can’t see him, but I smell him. He smells sickly sweet, like candy with too much sugar, and there’s a musk of cigarette smoke, too.

  “Dumb bitch. Where was you headed? You can’t help him. You ready to run out on him that fast? Not in for the long haul?”

  I don’t answer. I focus on being still and not vomiting. He’s heavy on my back, and I can barely breathe anyway. He pulls my hair harder.

  “Answer me, bitch. Whatcha think you gon’ do to help him?”

  I don’t answer, but I do manage to spit. My mouth is full of a salty, copper-flavored liquid. I think my lip is busted. Apparently, my guard doesn’t appreciate my unladylike behavior, and he punches me across the back of my head. I see dark spots and drop my face to the gravel driveway. He grabs my head again and pulls my face toward his. He’s even closer than before.

  “You sure are nice lookin’. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you ’round these parts before. Think we can have some fun while my boys finish up with Cade there?”

  He flips me over and straddles my body, and he slides my shirt up. Panic fills me. I have to get my bearings. Panic won’t save me from this asshole. I try to think through the self-defense classes I attended in college. How can I get free? Do I have the strength to overpower him? I have to get myself free. When the asshole grabs my breasts, I lose my mind.

  I spit blood in his face. When he recoils, and starts to wipe at his eyes, I roll my body. He’s thrown off balance, and I know this is the only chance I’ll get. I scramble to my feet and I kick. I land a good one in his stomach and then his face. I’m not sure how many names I call him, but while he writhes on the ground, I run to the back of the house.

  Shaking all over, I open the back door and lock it once I’m inside. I can’t think about myself. I grab the phone and run to the front window. Cade is still being held. The man who seems to be in charge hits him again. Cade won’t last much longer. Out of the corner of my eye, Shawna gets out of the big ass SUV parked to the side. She’s screaming at the man hitting Cade.

  “Joey, you said you wouldn’t hurt him. Stop!”

  Things you should think about before getting your dealer over here to pound someone for money, bitch. I look down at the phone and dial. It takes a couple rings, and the operator answers, “911 what’s your emergency?”

  “My name is Rhae Peters. I’m with Cade Miles. We are at 1311 Forrest...” before I can finish there’s a crashing sound at the back of the house. God! That idiot is breaking in. I bolt for the stairs, thinking I can hide from him upstairs. Before I make it that far, he’s got me. I drop the phone and it skids into the foyer. I kick and scream, but he’s carrying me toward the front door. I manage to land one good kick to his knee.

  “Bitch.” He growls in my ear. “I can’t wait to kill you!”

  “Kill me now! If you don’t, you are going to pay for this.”

  “I’d love to see that. I like a woman that’ll fight back. Wanna play rough?”

  I struggle more, and someone calls out, “Beau, get your ass out here. She can’t be that hard to handle.” That must be Joey. The man in charge.

  I can’t help myself. Hell, I don’t want to die being weak. “Yeah, Beau. I can’t be that hard to handle,” I taunt him.

  Beau grabs my throat and squeezes. I begin to choke and gasp for air. He pulls me backward through the door and stumbles as we drop down the porch steps. When we reach the bottom, he slings me to the ground. I catch myself on my palms, which immediately begin to ache. I think I’ve scraped them pretty good. Refusing to go down so easily, I stand and face the situation ahead of me.

  The man whistles. “No wonder Beau is a mess. You are a fine lady. Come to me.” He crooks his finger, beckoning me.

  “Joey, was it? Yeah, you can forget that.”

  “Aw, cher, you want me to hurt Cade here some more. My boys can oblige.”

  “Stop! No.” Against my better instincts, I walk toward him.

  “There’s a good girl. Now then, Cade, I want the money and I want it now.”

  Cade shakes his head. He looks like he can’t take one more blow. Blood is everywhere. Tears start streaming down my face. Cade swallows hard, “Fuck off, Joey. You and your crackhead cousin ain’t getting shit from me.”

  Joey is apparently very unhappy with Cade’s answer. He grabs me and holds a knife to my neck. “If that’s the way you want it, I’ll just cut this bitch’s throat. By the way, bitch, what is your name?”

  Cade pulls against the goons holding him. Beau is still standing by the porch. “Yeah Joey! Show that bitch the time of her life, man.”

  “Answer me, girl. What’s your name? I will cut your throat.”

  “Rhae.”

  “Well, Rhae, say goodbye to lover boy. May angels greet you, baby.” Joey increases the pressure of the knife on my neck. Shawna is screaming. Cade is struggling and is completely out of strength. Finally, he answers, “Joey! Leave her alone. You can have it.”

  “That’s a good boy. But I’m afraid that, for this one, the price just doubled. I want five thousand.”

  “Fine. Fine. Whatever you...”

  Sirens fill the air. Lights are flashing all the way down the street. Shawna screams and runs for the SUV. I guess self-preservation trumps all. The goons drop Cade and run. Beau has a big lead on the others. I think he’s the kind of chickenshit punk that runs at the first sign of trouble. Joey is the last. He points to Cade. “This is far from over.”

  Cade collapses into a heap on the ground. I take a few steps to get to him and fall beside him. I crawl the rest of the way and pull him into my lap. He groans. I start to cry even harder. He’s going to die. I’m going to sit here with his head in my lap and watch him die. “Please hold on. Don’t die. I can’t lose you.” I’m pleading with him. He can’t hear me because he is unconscious and barely breathing. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” I repeat over and over until the EMTs arrive.

  Everything around me turns to chaos. The police are asking me questions while the EMTs work on Cade. I don’t pay attention to the questions they ask me. I nod or say yes or no while watching him. The officer puts his hand on my arm. “Rhae, honey, don’t look. Let them help him. He’s in good hands. Talk to me.” He leads me to the other side of the truck where I can’t see anything.

  He asks me to tell him what happened. Holding a wad of gauze to my face, covering the scrapes, I start talking. I tell him what happened with Shawna this afternoon. I tell him how the men jumped Cade as soon as we got home. How Beau held me hostage in the truck. Then how I tried to get away and was nearly raped.

  “Do you think you can identify them all?”

  “I know I can. I can even describe the car they left in.”

  “Well, I know who Joey is. Shawna and Joey have done this kind of thing before. They are cousins or something. We’ll get them. Don’t you worry.” He is reassuring, but I’m anxious to see Cade. I turn to walk over and check on him. They have him in the back of the ambulance and are leaving. I yell for them to stop. I want to go with him, so I start running.

  “Woah! Wait!” The officer yells at me. I give up running and start crying again. “I’ll give you a ride. You need to be checked out at the hospital anyway.” The police officer loads me in the front seat of the car and hands me my purse. I guess he got it out of Cade’s truck. We ride to the hospital in near total silence. When we arrive, I say, “Thank you officer...”

  He smiles, and says, “It’s Fournier. Officer Jonathan Fournier.”

  “Thank You officer Fournier. For everything.” I step out of the car and make my way into the emergency department. I hear the sounds of doctors and nurses working franticly as I approach the desk. The clerk says she doesn’t
know anything yet. Officer Fournier informs the clerk that I need to be checked as well. I’m escorted to a bed behind a thin blue curtain.

  a

  Several hours later the clerk informs me, “Ms. Peters? Cade would like to see you now.”

  I stand. “Where is he?” I ask.

  She takes me to the back of the emergency department. He is in a bed propped up. I step in the room and stop on the edge of the doorway. As I do, he turns his head to look at me. “Hi, beautiful.”

  I move to his side and take his hand. “Hey.” I can’t help it, I start crying again.

  “Woah, woah, woah, I’m okay. Just bruised. They are going to keep me a little while. I need to heal up and make sure I don’t have a concussion. I’m going to be fine.”

  “Sure you are. I had to stand there with a gun in my face watching you get kicked all over the yard. Who was that?” I’m trying to tame my anger.

  He looks down. “Shawna’s cousin. He’s also her dealer. She owes him money and told him I was an easy mark. That I would give them whatever to keep them from killing her. They were waiting on me because I refused to give the money to her. This is what they do.”

  “I told Officer Fournier about Shawna. He said he knows what’s up with them, and he will get them.”

  “You can trust Jonathan when he says that. He’s a good guy.”

  “You know him?”

  “Yeah, we went to college together. My best pal. Always the DD.”

  I nod and lay my head on his hand as I sit in the chair by his bed.

  “Get some rest, Rhae. We’ll be out of here soon. Did they check you out?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Just a few scrapes.”

  He seems agitated, “What did they do to you?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m fine. Nothing happened to me.” I think I almost have him convinced when I start crying. “Really, I’m fine.”

  “I will kill him for putting his hands on you. Do you hear me? I. Will. Kill. Him.”

  “No. Let the police handle it. I’m okay. I fought back really hard. They only managed to rough me up.”

  “It’s okay. They will. They will handle it. It’s okay.” It’s a mantra. I’m not sure if he means it to make me feel better or himself. He rubs the back of my head as I rest it on his bed. “Rest, baby.”

  Eventually, I move over to the chair by the window and curl up to sleep. Cade has been in and out with the pain meds they give him. Sometime during the night, a nurse covers me with a blanket. I snuggle deeper into the chair.

  a

  In the morning light, I wake up to voices in the room. I sit up, wipe my eyes and stretch.

  “There she is,” Cade says.

  I look around and see that the police officer that brought me to the hospital is sitting on the end of Cade’s hospital bed. I put my feet on the floor and prepare to stand up. Everything aches from sleeping in the chair, though.

  “Good morning, Ms. Peters.”

  “Good morning Officer Fournier.”

  “Jonathan. You call me Jonathan.”

  “Okay, Jonathan. If you call me Rhae. Did you get them?”

  “I did.” He smiles broadly. “Caught them at their apartment near the quarter. We got them for assault, possession with intent to distribute, weapons charges, and a number of felony probation violations. They should be arraigned today. We have enough to put them under the jail for a good long while.”

  Relief washes over me. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” I walk over and hug him. I think I take him by surprise because it takes a second before he hugs me back.

  “That’s enough. Let go of my girl,” Cade says, laughing from his bed.

  I turn to face him. “Your girl, huh?”

  “My girl.”

  Home

  Cade is released from the hospital. He is sore, and it will take a while for his bruised ribs to heal. Jonathan gives us a ride home. He helps Cade get up the steps into the house and settles him in a chair before leaving. I offered him dinner, but he needed to get home to his wife.

  We are quiet as we go about making dinner that evening. I push him to tell me about Shawna and how, if no girl ever measured up, why does he have a psycho ex-fiancée.

  “I thought she could be the one. I wanted her to be. I thought we could figure out having a family and working through life. We had a place near the quarter, and she and I moved in fast. Shawna had some previous problems, but somewhere in my mind I was convinced, probably because of her promises, that she was over it and better,” he explains.

  “What do you mean by ‘problems?’” I think I know, but I have to ask anyway.

  He shrugs. “As a teenager, she was in and out of a local metal health facility. She had drug problems. Everything from weed to meth. She’s done it all. Again, I thought she was a stronger person for it. She had me convinced it was behind her. It wasn’t. After a couple years together, we were engaged. I came home from work one day and she was buzzing.” He waves his hands. “You know, bouncing from topic to topic as she talked to me. She was like a bullet ricocheting off every surface.”

  He walks into the kitchen and takes a seat at the breakfast bar. “She was cooking and cleaning and happier than I had ever seen her. When I got her to tell me what she was so over the top about, she told me we were having a baby.”

  My mind spins out of control. This revelation makes my chest hurt. I’m not breathing well when I ask, “You have a baby with her?”

  He shakes his head. “No. At the time, all I knew was that I had to make sure our wedding happened soon. I made a list of everything we needed before the baby was born. I worked extra hours. I found the house and started renovations as I could afford them. I had planned to surprise her when it was finished. The more I worked, the further apart we seemed to grow. One day I came home from work, and she was passed out in the floor of the kitchen. I scooped her up and drove her to the ER.”

  His face falls as he goes on, “That’s when my world fell apart. Shawna had been using again. She had overdosed, and that’s what made her pass out. Since she was pregnant, they ran all kinds of tests on the baby. Come to find out the baby didn’t have a heartbeat. They kept her a couple days in the hospital to help her sober up a little bit, so they could tell her about the baby and perform a D&C. I didn’t know what to say to her. I know the vows weren’t taken yet, but to me they were just as serious in the situation. ‘For better or worse, in sickness and health.’ I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to give her another chance. I tried.”

  My heart breaks for him at the same time I feel relieved. It’s a sick feeling. “You tried to fix her, didn’t you?”

  He nods. “But I was angry with her. I resented her. The more I thought about it, I couldn’t stay with her. She chose drugs over our unborn baby. What would have happened if she hadn’t overdosed? Would my baby have been born addicted? How would we have handled that? I went into her hospital room and offered to help her through rehab. She went crazy, screaming at me and causing such a scene that the hospital staff asked me to leave. I did. But the next day, and several days after, I went back over and over and over again. I begged her to get help and we would continue our life together. I never realized that it was a battle I couldn’t win.

  I sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. “You can’t fix everyone. Hell, sometimes I wonder if anyone can be fixed if they don’t want it for themselves,” I muse.

  He nuzzles my neck, and says, “The relationship I thought we had was never what she thought we had. Everything I thought we were, thought we had ahead of us, was gone. Our future. Gone.”

  I consider everything he’s telling me. I have been so wrapped up in my own shitty situation that I never once thought about what Irma meant when she told me he was a broken as me. On the one hand, I think we shouldn’t be together. Two people as broken as we are can’t possibly be any good for each other. Can we?

  He looks away from me, distant. “I’m sorry I never told you any of this. I did
n’t want to burden you with all you are already dealing with.”

  “We all have shit we’re dealing with. I can’t judge you for dealing with yours in your own way. She’ll figure out her life eventually. Once she gets out of jail,” I say sarcastically.

  After a long kiss, we pick back up on our discussion about Bell Hills and what needs to happen there. Eventually, we head to bed like an old couple. He holds me, and I hold him. I nearly lost him, and I just can’t seem to let go. What if I had lost him? The thought causes a pain in my chest. It was really close. I do my best not to think about it. It’s absolutely insane to think that I would love him and lose him so close to losing Ryan. I would check in to the local mental hospital if that had happened. It would have ended me.

  a

  Over the next few days, we talk about our trip back to Bell Hills. We decide on an early morning trip to North Mississippi. We should get back in time to let us meet with the agent for my house the same day. When Friday morning rolls around, I wake Cade up and get him in the shower while I make travel cups of coffee and a picnic, so we don’t have to stop to eat anywhere. After Cade gets out of the shower, I hop in. Before long, we are ready to hit the road.

  Cade refuses to let me drive, which thoroughly pisses me off. I’m not sure he realizes how much I love to drive. I suppress my irritation by sipping on my coffee. Smiling, I reach over and hold his hand which is resting on the seat beside him. The distance between us feels too great. I move the things between us to the floorboard and slide over. Cade moves his arm at the same time, making room for me to snuggle into his side, and I do. I rest my head on his chest as we ride in silence. For once, instead of watching the sunset together, we watch the sunrise over the interstate.